


Mr Krupp Did Not Sign Up For This

by Anonymous



Category: Captain Underpants Series - Dav Pilkey
Genre: Fluff, Gen, One-Shot, baby harold, harold is too pure for this world, hero turned into baby episode, krupp does not know how to parent, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11339601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In one of your unexplained, 'character is turned into baby for the day' schtick, Mr Krupp finds himself looking after a tiny Harold. He questions his life choices.





	Mr Krupp Did Not Sign Up For This

This was not what he signed up for.

The school was on lock-down. Students were cowering under their seats and it wasn’t because of him making an announcement over the speaker-phone. If that doesn’t tell you something’s out of joint nothing will...

Principle Krupp pressed his wrist to the bridge of his nose. Breathe. Inhaling sharply, he turned to the...subject at hand.

The past year had been mayhem thanks to the...’less than appropriately attired’ lunatic a certain pair of hooligans had unleashed upon the world.

Combine that with a certified maniac who actually created a mutagenic...thing that allowed all sorts of incidents to occur, kinds that had no business being out of science fiction movies.

Like...this.

If Mr Krupp had watched any Saturday morning cartoons, he’d have called this scenario a ‘reduce the hero to a helpless baby’ episode. But he never went near those channels, so how would he know?

Point was, Harold was a baby. Lying on a cushion in his office while the rest of the school cowered. George was who knows where and nobody could leave because of the _glowing living toilets_ running around outside and snapping at every exit. Just thinking about it made him fume...

_CA-CRACK._

Oh, and it’s raining too. Krupp groaned loud and low to himself, leaning against his desk. The clap of thunder that resonated from the sky rattled the windows, and the curly mop of blond hair on his desk jolted.

Uh oh. Krupp grimaced as Howard’s eyes scrunched up and his lip wobbled. “Waaait, wait, wait wai –“

Harold let out an ear-piercing wail. Krupp clamped his hands over his ears as the cry assaulted his senses. “Urgh! Stop it! If anything _I_ should be the one crying, not you! Look at you!”

He gestured broadly to him, and the sniffling infant stared back at him in confusion. Well at least he wasn’t screaming –

Harold opened his gummy mouth –

CRACK.

And froze. Little fists balled up and tucked under his chin, eyes peering about the dimly lit office in anxiousness and puzzlement.

...Krupp lowered his arms.

It was a familiar sight; Harold was always the more timid one, always doing that gesture with his arms – tucking them in like he was scared of getting bit.

Usually he relished in the anxiety he caused in those two brats, when it replaced the reeking smugness and humour that they threw in his face after every prank, but now –

He dragged a hand down his face. The whimpers couldn’t be ignored.

Gingerly, he reached out. The whimpers grew in volume and without thinking he made a shushing sound, awkwardly tucking his hand under Harold’s head. The floppy curls felt horribly fragile. You were supposed to support the head, right? Damned if he knew.

In both hands, the baby fit quite snugly, and for a moment the two of them stared at each other; Krupp’s nose wrinkling as he rose a brow. Look at him. It was so strange to think that this...little...thing would grow into a small person. With the way the arms and legs curled up like that you’d never think they’d actually walk...

It was – weird. He’d had no younger relatives; in fact, this had to be the first time he’d helped a baby.

Harold stared back with equal bemusement. Then, experimentally, a little hand curled around Krupp’s finger.

Ack. Teeth gritting, the man tried to stay as still as possible despite his aversion. Couldn’t have him crying again.

After a moment of silence, Krupp smiled smugly to himself. “There we go;” He said, relaxing just a tad, “Not so hard.”

“Wa.”

“...I don’t know what that means and I’m not gonna try.” He told the baby pointedly. Upon being spoken to, Harold’s lips twitched upward in a threat of a smile. Krupp scowled involuntarily.

The baby’s face crumpled. _Uh oh._

“Uhhhh.” Think quickly, think quickly, how did people on television and in the streets –

Cautiously, and sucking the air in through his teeth, he tucked the tiny ball of warmth against his shoulder, petting him as lightly as possibly on the back. Harold blinked, but no deafening wail appeared. Krupp breathed out.

Man, no wonder those parents looked so ragged if every moment of three years was spent like this.

The weight on his shoulder was warm, and strangely heavy. Yet...not unpleasant. He wouldn’t call is familiar, no, but...

Krupp shook his head, harrumphing to himself. Harold’s tiny hands went to claps at his collar, babbling incoherently.

Absently, Krupp ran a hand through the fluffy curls. The baby cooed softly, eyes falling shut. Hmph. Of course he’d love the attention.

CRA-ACK.

Aaand he was back to bawling. Right in his ear.

Keeping him on his shoulder awkwardly, like one would a phone under their chin, Krupp moved across the office, side-stepping past the chairs in front of his desk and rummaging through the nearby drawlers.

“Alright, alright...” He grumbled, barely hearing himself talk over the wriggling baby’s cries, “Just hang on...”

Where was it, where – ahah!

“Look, look.” He waved the item in front of the baby’s face, having shimmied him down into the crook of his arm. The red-faced Harold stared blankly at it. A certain green, overly adorable turtle plush.

And once again a smile broke across his face. He started that darn wriggling again, making grabby motions. Krupp rolled his eyes and let him have it. The hug the infant bestowed upon the unfortunate toy was extremely tight. Good thing it had no bones.

Nonetheless, Krupp breathed out. He wasn’t cut out for this.

Slumping back in his chair, he let the little tyke fiddle around with the toy as he stared blearily at the wall, his head nursing an ache and his shoulders growing stiff.

Then, Harold, being as focused as ever, decided the toy was boring and peered up at him instead, little arms flapping like a duckling trying to fly off. Krupp fixed him with a hard look.

The toy slipped. As Harold watched it fall with a soft-smile and fascination, Krupp reacted with a better reflex than he’d had in years, snatching it back and pressing it into the infant’s arms.

And Harold clasped his fingers.

Krupp stiffened.

The baby babbled quietly, tugging and pull on his hand, tapping each finger as if checking he had the same number and cooing in delight when he discovered that they both, in fact, had the same kind of hand. Krupp grimaced, hoping to God he couldn’t bite down on his hand like he had the turtle-toy a moment ago...

Didn’t he remember who he was at all? The normal Harold wouldn’t be looking at him with that happy little face.

Why had he chosen to work in this field?

Because academically, it was all he was good at. Paper-work, bossing people around. From school, to university, back again. It was a trap many fell into when they just let the system take the wheel.

Good hours, dismal salary. Well, it was plentiful if you were...of the sparser households. Hmph. Krupp frowned to himself, but quickly tried to quell it when he saw Harold watching him uneasily.

Of course it was Harold that this happened to. George with that ridiculous tie of his, wouldn’t have let some...maniac turn him into an infant. He wouldn’t have froze up. Krupp couldn’t believe he actually knew their personalities down to a T.

But then again, they knew his.

A small yawn dragged his attention back. Harold snuggled into his shoulder, still clinging to his hand like it was a teddy bear. Out like a light and it wasn’t even four-thirty.

Krupp felt something in him deflate.

“You have a bad judge in character, Harold.” He droned, more to himself than the baby.


End file.
